The Project
by groundcontroltomajortom
Summary: FS 1 fanfic. The Great War has well and truly begun and a young man faces a terrible choice.
1. Chapter 1 The Deal

The Project

The Project

**Disclaimer: Again, thankyou to Interplay and Volution for creating such a wonderful Universe. I have of course, made no money from this**

**A/N: This is a sequel to The Marauder, I recommend you read that first cause you probably won't have much of a clue as to what is going on in this if not**

But for the deep boom of boot on steel, it was difficult to notice Captain James striding down the corridor of the GTSC Sevrak. He strode purposefully, but without betraying an ounce of the anxiety he felt constricting his chest muscles. The door he wanted was last on the right. Normally vacated, the guest room today had an unexpected occupant. What was the commander of the GTD Galatea doing on board a civilian science vessel?

James rapped three times on the door and then entered without awaiting a response. The Admiral dropped his papers onto his desk at the sight of him. It was hard to find two men who looked more militant in confrontation. James glared, with an almost obscene malice at his superior. Wolf replied quietly to the unspoken challenge 'I will not say I approve of your methods Captain, but the matter has been taken out of my hands now. Do with him as you wish.'

At this, James relaxed slightly 'Where is he then?' he asked eagerly. Wolf nodded at the previously unseen Lieutenant sitting in the corner, who led James from the room. They walked briefly to an unlit door, only accessible by iris scan and blocked off to most crew members by a large, unmarked red square. Few crew members had passed through this door, most were denied access and many did not want access. The Lieutenant saluted sharply and departed.

The door slid open to reveal a virtually empty hangar. This long, wide area was almost pitch black, with only the tracklights being used to light the entire room. A young man was bound to a metal chair between the tracklights. Voices from the impenetrable darkness prompted him occasionally to 'stay still' or 'keep quiet'. James approached this man with a disgusted expression on his face. The man could not keep still, he was shaking and continuously muttering under his breath.

James could make out the hangar doors which made up the far wall, he considered opening them this instant and having done with it. But, perhaps that would be too easy, 'perhaps' he thought, 'young Scott might have more to offer us.' James reached into his breast pocket and removed a pair of round spectacles from a case. He shut the case and allowed the echo to continue long enough to provoke a moan of fear from Ensign Scott.

From nowhere, a man with greying hair appeared carrying a silver chair, he placed it down carefully and disappeared once more into the darkness. Captain James took the seat 'Contrary to popular belief Mr. Scott, I am not a torturer. I am not here to intimidate you. We in the GTI often require somewhere private to do our work, in this case it is somewhere very private.' Scott quivered slightly under James' gaze.

'Indeed, I do not think you have anything to fear from me at all Mr. Scott.' The raised voice sounded artificial, echoing loudly in the limitless surrounds.

'You do have a duty to me though and to all of us' concluded James quietly. The atmosphere shifted, Scott's face betrayed confusion but no longer fear. Barely speaking above a whisper, he asked 'What must I do?'

'You, Ensign Robert Scott must save humanity.' There followed a moment of complete stillness, a moment at which only the endless hum of the jump drives could be heard.

Scott looked shocked at this. James paced for a while, considering his options. What must one do? What must one do when pressed so urgently? Having The Taranis was a start of course but there were rumours, disturbing rumours coming from the Vasudans. Scott was an exceptional young pilot. Perhaps the finest of his generation and he had detached himself firmly from reality. Surely the perfect candidate for the GTI, for if he were to blurt out what he knew, who would believe him?

'The Vasudans have told us that they have encountered a capital ship that is completely impervious to their weapons. They found out about this through one of their infiltrators in the Hammer of Light. Having been requested to test their weapons on the ship, it soon became apparent that the Shivans have managed to equip this ship with an energy shielding that is completely impervious to our weapons. We have designated this ship The Lucifer.

We have reason to believe that, soon enough, this ship will be used against us not just for the destruction of the GTA but for the mass-xenocide of the human race. This is a ship that is equipped for atrocity and built for that purpose only. The Shivans are coming to finish us. You, Robert Scott, are going to stop them.' James looked deep into Scott's eyes, there was strength in this young man, strength borne of the torture he had suffered at the hands of the enemy. In short, the strength to do what was necessary.

James did not hesitate a moment longer, the full truth was what he was owed. 'Ensign, I'm going to ask you to give up your life. I'm going to ask you to weigh your own life against those of the eight billion others that inhabit our world. When the time comes, when the Shivans invade, because believe me they will, you will pilot Prometheus wing. You will have no power to shields or weapons, your ship will be loaded with explosives and you will crash, full on, into the hull of the Lucifer.'

Scott no longer looked fearful, he hated the idea of being imprisoned or tortured further but he had no such fear of death. Instead, determination fired behind his pupils, the kind of determination that comes with the chance of revenge. He would do anything to turn the terror he felt against the Shivans. They had been the cause of his suffering, the reason why he no longer felt human, the reason why no one believed him anymore, not even himself.

He understood now why he had the bandage around his foot. Everything made sense, he had been injured so that James could talk to him, so that he could truly fulfil his ambitions. The bloodlust coursing through his brain heated him in the cold hangar. James smiled at the noticeable change and ran his hand over the communications panel to relay the news to Wolf. 'Tell Singh that we have carried it out successfully, The Project now has a willing participant.' Scott was released from his chair by the men emerging from the darkness. The lights around them now activated on all sides and the whole hangar was revealed under an almost blinding white light. There was a craft on the far left hand side. It was essentially in the shape of a missile but larger, much larger so that it took up almost an entire side of the chamber.

Along its side, black lettering read 'The Prometheus'. Scott pondered the name for a moment, he had encountered it before, many years before in his book of Greek Mythology. Prometheus, the man who stole fire from the gods, how fitting. Captain James now joined Scott, surveying the craft with a sombre reverence 'We do not yet know when or even if we can use this but if we do you will know immediately. You will be expected to do everything you have just agreed to, from this day forth you are bound to it. There is no way of pulling out.'

Scott felt almost nothing as this was said, he did not believe there was anything that could distract him from this opportunity. He touched the craft for a moment, hearing his mind hum with excitement. 'I will not pull out' he stated decisively. James decided that now was a good moment to leave him with the craft, to let the avenger get to know his weapon of choice.

He and the other nameless men departed. Scott was alone in the hangar, and that was the way he liked it.


	2. Chapter 2 A question of Honour

The Project – Chapter 2

Just over a month had passed and how much had changed in the life of Ensign Robert Scott. Indeed, he felt as though he had been returned to life because at last he was truly in love. He had thought that he had forgotten how to, that there was no hope for him in the long and darkening horizons of his revenge. All he could see was the Shivan using those clamp-like devices on his face, the scrapings they took from his arms with their claws. Now, nothing could be further from his mind.

He watched Suzanne play the violin with consummate grace and wondered. For, it had been only two hours previously that they had engaged a Shivan patrol near Deneb. She was alive by his grace, he had destroyed the fighter on her tail because and only because of the way he felt. He had endangered the mission by doing so and had listened to the Admiral's reprimands with an air of a man who couldn't care less. Looking long and hard at Suzanne made him realise that it was totally worth it.

There was just the doubt, always the doubt. At the time it had seemed so clear, at the time everything Captain James had said made sense. He did not have to believe in anything, he was death, he was glory. That had been all he needed to know.

Scott had not expected to be put back on active service at all, he was quite prepared to be given a desk job whilst waiting for his date with destiny. Instead, the GTA told James that he couldn't be spared given the state of the war and so he had been forced to let his pet project go back into battle. Scott went back to Beta wing, with whom he had been with before his problems and now he was Beta 1, the leader of the group.

A freak accident ensued on his first mission back. Beta had been sent to oversee the routine pickup of Terran cargo to make sure the Hammer of Light did not enter the fray as they had often done recently. Beta 3 had been sent to accompany the main Omega transport in picking up the supplies but the transport's fuel valves failed on its docking approach. It overheated and exploded as it tried to compensate, taking Beta 3 with it.

Beta 3, or Charlie Hawkins as he was more commonly known had been an immensely popular and highly valued member of the team. He was a close friend of Scott's, he had helped him greatly through his difficulties and his loss for a time hit Scott very hard. The funeral was an immensely sad occasion, partly because he had died not at the hands of the enemy but due to tragic accident. Admiral Wolf spoke movingly about Charlie, representing his honesty, loyalty and courage as an example of everything the GTA represented.

Nonetheless, life continued and Beta wing was short of a pilot. The replacement arrived two weeks later. Scott remembered vividly the moment he saw her at the first briefing, her sweeping black hair and green eyes immediately striking him hard somewhere in the stomach region. He had never previously believed in love at first sight but his new wingmate completely shattered this theory. It was a matter of hours before he would have the chance to talk to the new Beta 3 and it would only be under the strict confines of mission protocol. His other plans would have to wait.

There was something of an irony in the fact that Suzanne's first mission with them was a complete success. After the unexpected accident in the last mission, Beta wing was not broken back in gently as Scott had expected but instead forced into a major melee against a Shivan capital ship designated The Ratri. A rare failure in Shivan intelligence left the craft completely unprepared and undefended, Beta and Alpha took it out. This dealt a major blow to the Shivan push towards Vasuda Prime, but The Lucifer was still present in the vicinity. Not that this mattered very much to Robert Scott as he removed his flight uniform.

Beta went for their debriefing shortly after the flight and as Admiral Wolf praised their success, Scott couldn't help thinking that he was rather oblivious to the latest news of The Lucifer. Something in the way he smiled irritated Wolf, who loudly berated him, much to the embarrassment of his fellow pilots. All this was soon forgotten shortly afterwards though, as he approached Suzanne quietly.

Some things get easier with age. Others do not. Scott was a man who did not find this any easier than he did when he was thirteen. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again rapidly, almost fish-like in his actions. He eventually managed to muster a coherent sentence suggesting a meeting at some point in the near future at a nearby bar, to which she agreed.

He had left the debriefing room with a smirk on his face. Around the corridors of the Galatea he heard the usual shouting and chaotic sprinting that he had come to associate with this war. The previous war with Vasuda had been a positively tranquil affair in comparison to the chaos The Great War had caused. Planning and preparation did not count for very much against the Shivans. So often emergencies had be reacted to rather than acted upon. Scott made his way as quickly to his quarters as he could and slept the sleep of the dead.

That had been almost two months ago now. Their relationship had been intense in its short life so far. It was as if mortality were meters from them, in some of the recent missions that had certainly become the case. The defence of Vasuda was becoming more and more intense and Beta had been transferred to the GTD Alliance at Vasuda Prime. The Lucifer had yet to make an appearance, but gradually the Shivan presence in the area was increasing. At the borders of each jump node, Beta wing was fighting for the survival of their allies.

It seemed hard to believe now that the Vasudans had been the enemy not 12 months ago. Scott had got to know many of Pisces wing very well. He had talked to them as equals, the very same pilots whom he had been trying to kill. The realisation began to dawn on him that they shared more than just a common enemy. Scott had been chosen to be the last defence of his world and these pilots were doing likewise.

Only their job was infinitely harder, the GTA had yet to find a way of penetrating the Lucifer's energy shielding. These pilots were essentially firing blanks, Scott considered the bleak possibility that his suicide mission may not change anything.

xxxxxxxxx

It was unusual for so many high-powered members of the GTI to be in the same room. The far end of the table was in complete shadow, the highest ranks were not permitted to appear as more than a silhouette to the middle-managers of the intelligence service. At the near end of the rectangular table, a middle-aged captain set up a holoscreen. He was about to deliver a presentation that could permanently alter the course of The Great War.

He waited till everyone was seated before beginning 'Gentlemen, I'm sure you are all aware of who I am. Unfortunately, I do not have the same pleasure of all of you.' He paused, allowing the laughter to lap over him even though he noticed that none of it came from the far end.

'It has come to our attention that Vasuda is in imminent danger of destruction. We believe that the Lucifer is waiting another two to three days before making its final approach. There is little time left to us to save the Vasudan home-world. So, we will not try to.' He paused, noting the prickly silence, some of the Captains smiled at him, evidently thinking this was another joke. Some of them looked horrified but most of them bore the same expression of benign neutrality. These men were mostly spies after all.

The Captain continued 'It has always been the policy of the GTI to do what is best for Terrans. We have not always acted morally, no secret service can claim it has but we have always done what is right. You men already know of the secrets the ancient civilisation has revealed to us. Already, we could destroy the Lucifer whilst it is moving through subspace but I propose that we do not. I propose we leave Vasuda to her fate. A weakened Vasudan race will greatly benefit all Terrans…'

He was almost shouting now above the outcry '…A weakened Vasuda will benefit all of us because there will be less chance of the Vasudans joining the Hammer of Light after they see what the Shivans are capable of. Therefore, the secrets of the ancients should under no circumstances be given to the GTA until Sol itself is under direct threat.'

The captain took his seat and waited for the outcry to die down from many on the left. On his right, all the men had remained composed and calm throughout this delivery, that was to be expected, they were the veterans. A young Commander stood and said 'Captain, with all due respect, I do not see how this is in our interests. Young men and women will die in the defence of Sol and you are permitting genocide when we could prevent it. Vasuda is an ancient and proud world and we should do everything we can to protect it. To suggest that we should do nothing is tantamount to Treason.'

Sitting down to a smattering of applause, the Commander shook his head, as if struggling to believe what he had heard. James remained composed, he knew that this would be a difficult sell to a few of them. One of the veterans on the right stood, his large circular scar identifying him as the famous Commandant Peter Raymond 'Gentlemen, it is perhaps true that we would be betraying our allies in leaving them to their fate but I am old enough to know that the Vasudans are not our real allies. We are using them to fight these abominations and once we have defeated the Shivans ,which we will, there will no doubt be another conflict between us and them, if we let Vasuda Prime survive.

'This scar, and my memories tell me what I know. The youngsters in here will call me bitter and misguided, but just know this - I did not suffer, I did not spend seven years as leader of Alpha wing and I did not live in constant fear of destruction at Vasudan hands to let a chance like this slip away. We must save ourselves, we owe those creatures nothing.' He stared at those shouting him down, stared with those eyes that had seen so much destruction. His bitterness was profound, perhaps even understandable in the eyes of some but the young Commander simply could not believe what he had heard. Peter Raymond, a legend of the V-T war, was simply going to allow genocide and many at the table had simply nodded their agreement.

The Commander was about to speak when a loud voice from the darkness asked a question 'Captain James, how is your project going? How is Ensign Scott?'

James took a moment to address the man, or more accurately the barely visible silhouette. He was shocked that he had spoken at all, it was incredibly rare for him to even see an unknown, let alone be addressed by one 'Scott is fine, he is still piloting Beta wing, much to my chagrin. I am having slight doubts about having chosen him, I had underestimated how strong his moral code is. Unfortunately, he has also become infatuated with one of his wingmates. It may be possible to make this work in our favour though...'

The Commander snapped at this, this was no time to obey protocol 'So we have the technology to save ourselves but we just won't bother with the Vasudans. We have a young man who most probably has served with Vasudans, who may even have friends who are Vasudans who is being prevented from helping his friends by you men, who call yourselves Admirals. What is admirable about that? I am appalled at this. You would prevent Scott from saving Vasuda just so that we can subjugate them more easily in the future. This, quite frankly gentlemen, is a disgrace.' He sat down, shaking with anger and bewilderment.

Captain James remained unmoved. One of the unknowns spoke through the darkness 'Commander, your name and rank please?' The Commander stood, ready for the censure, ready for whatever they decided to do to him, he did not care, he could not listen to these men any longer 'My name is George Douglas, Commander of Strategic Planning, I am the GTA representative at this meeting. At your service distinguished sir' he said, using the correct term of address as sarcastically as possible.

The silence in the room was palpable, George knew what was coming, the shadow spoke 'Commander, you have no right to interrupt a superior officer. If you do so again you will be expelled from this meeting' the voice sounded irritated but George knew there was no point in arguing back. He simply rose to his feet and said 'I am well aware I have been sworn to secrecy over this meeting, I am well aware that I am not permitted to tell the GTA anything of what I have learned and that the reason why you never choose the same GTA representative is to avoid leaks. I cannot however sit here and let you men outvote me, since the vast majority of you seem bent on this course of action. Therefore, I resign my commission with immediate effect. I cannot be part of an organisation that condones such actions.'

George sighed, he couldn't believe how his life had changed in the last 25 minutes. He decided that he hadn't finished 'And, furthermore, despite my better judgement, I vow to keep your secrets. I will act as a man who honours his word. Perhaps you men should consider that before you vote.' George left his seat and departed in disgust, despite what he had said, he had no intention of keeping his secrets.


	3. Chapter 3 Shifting Sands

It just so happened that Scott had shore leave in the same week as K'vath, his Vasudan friend from Pisces wing. K'vath suggested that they spend a few days on Vasuda Prime. To most this would have seemed distinctly foolhardy given the immediate danger of attack but Scott was far from afraid. The Vasudan bore a mournful look for much of the time, though he did his best to disguise it. Scott thought rather darkly that it might be his last chance to see his homeworld.

By the time they reached the landing bay, it was becoming clear that the evacuation was well under way. Everyone in the city knew that it might only be a matter of days now. Nonetheless, Scott marvelled at the high-sprung brown towers that swayed gently in the breeze coming off the great desert. The city of Aya Cygani sprawled around them, Vasuda's second largest settlement. The sandy streets were a mass of hazardous movements as this alien world prepared itself for the worst.

K'vath stared around regretfully at the scene. Scott could tell what he was thinking, he would feel the same if he felt there was nothing he could do, a grave sense of pity swept over him. The craft opened with a hiss, its door falling to the earth. Having been told the atmosphere was perfectly breathable, Scott was under-prepared for the thin quality of the air, his lungs took a few minutes to adjust. His eyes also needed a few moments to register the different quality of light on Vasuda, it was closer to the primary star and therefore a little hotter and a little brighter than the average on Earth.

The richness and variation of the place immediately struck Scott, the buildings surrounding the landing pad were vast and old, very old. The oldest buildings left in use on earth were generally a maximum of 1500 years old, K'vath explained that the Vasudans were obsessed with preserving their history. Some of these buildings were reputed to be, at their oldest foundations, 6,000 years old. Scott and K'vath walked around a corner to be greeted by an open courtyard fronted by bronze gates.

At the back of this courtyard, there was a building which looked like a giant mansion divided into three wings. The sheer scale and beauty of the place took Scott's breath away for a moment. After he had regained his composure, Scott asked what the place was. 'It is my university, it is where I learnt Astrophysics. It is also home to the great monks of Amunsah, who are said to have the power of foresight. I have brought you here to ask for their blessing, for both our sakes' the croaking sounds emanating from his mouth ended as the universal translator in Scott's earpiece caught up. K'vath walked through the gate, showing the guards the mark on his arm denoting his graduation, they saluted and let him pass.

Scott walked in K'vath's wake almost guiltily, Terrans did not often visit Vasuda Prime. There had after all been a fourteen year war between the powers, but it seemed like a waste that so many had been deprived of seeing this place. He was struck with the thought that perhaps jealousy may have been a minor factor in the start of the V-T war.

He looked up at K'vath with a slight sense of wonder. In many ways Vasudans and Terrans were very alike, two arms and two legs, a shared obsession with exploration and equally short tempers. They were a learned species, academically rich and historically aware. It seemed that fate was about to deprive them of this, it was quite possible that in a few days several thousand years of history would be meaningless, a mere legend that no longer had any physical form. Scott shook his head and reminded himself that he was a GTA pilot.

Having passed through the front doors, they approached a long corridor bathed in a gentle gold by the light of the sun. There was a small rounded wooden door at the end. K'vath knocked and asked for entrance at the same time muttering something the translator did not comprehend. Two old Vasudans appeared at the door draped in bright red robes. K'vath recognised the lead man and addressed him 'Brother Redan, I request a hearing. For, my mind is troubled. I would hope that you can share what you see in our futures, me and my Terran friend.'

The brother inclined his head courteously to K'vath, familiarity obvious in his smile. He turned to gaze curiously at Scott for a moment and then repeated the gentle bow. They followed him through the narrow door and beheld a sight Scott had never thought was possible. As a boy, Scott had visited St. Peter's Basilica and thought that impressive but he now beheld something altogether greater. Similar in some respects but bigger, much bigger and more beautiful in the golden light refracting through the windows than Scott could have possibly imagined. The side walls seemed to stretch for four or five hundred meters and the rows of pews indicated that this was indeed a place of worship.

'We have come through the back entrance, I prefer it because you appreciate it a little more when you don't have to adjust to the light.' K'vath commented, laughing gently at the expression on Scott's face. Scott smiled, he had never heard a Vasudan laugh before and listening to its wheezy quality was a very heartening experience. The monks beckoned them to follow and as they did Scott gazed at the banners draped over the side walls, all six representing a base achievement of Vasudan society. The oldest bore no writing and was very worn, it depicted a wheel. The newest showed a large ship entering a subspace portal, the written runic language surrounding it evidently denoting the date.

They reached the front end of the building and turned left, entering a panelled door beyond the end of the nearest aisle. The room they found themselves in was very small, evidently only designed for five or six people, the Vasudan equivalent of candlelight gave it an eerie quality. Scott noticed the light emanated from small plants placed throughout the room and that there were no windows in this place. Redan spoke quietly to the monk who currently occupied it, who nodded and left immediately. It may have been his imagination, but he swore when he glanced at him that he noticed distinct hatred on his face.

'You must forgive Brother Janto, his parents were killed in the V-T war. We brought him up as our own' explained Redan, who began pacing the room anxiously. 'Tell me, what exactly are the defences like up there? Is there any hope?'

K'vath looked taken aback, he had evidently never known the monk to be so forward before 'Our defences are limited, right now there are many destroyers engaged in battle at Deneb but if we cannot find a way of penetrating the energy shielding, I cannot see much hope.' Redan took this news without flinching, he simply nodded as if he had been expecting as much. A look of shame crept over K'vath, he lowered his head and muttered an apology.

Redan replied to him with all the sincerity he could muster 'do not be troubled my boy, if there is truly nothing that can be done then there is certainly no need for shame.' He placed his right hand on K'vath's shoulder and Scott suddenly felt like he was intruding on something very private.

'Neither of you came to me for that reason though. Neither of you are here simply to tell an old monk about events that do not interest him. You are here to find out about your futures.' He paused, noticing that K'vath had straightened himself whilst Scott looked somewhat apprehensive, he already knew what his future held.

'I'm afraid to say K'vath that it is a myth. We monks of Amunsah cannot see into the future any more than any other Vasudan.' He gave both of them a moment for the words to sink in.

'But what we can do is give you our interpretations, we spend the majority of our lives at the study or in the recording of history and it always amazes me how much it repeats itself.' Redan frowned, noting K'vath's look of immense disappointment. Redan knew that the monks had never exactly publicly quashed this rumour, they enjoyed their notoriety too much. However, he was not going to be dishonest with one of his favourite former pupils. Nor was he going to mistaken for some misty-eyed clairvoyant.

Moving his water glass, Redan said 'History will remember us. When we become history, we can know for certain what became of us. Until then, I can only give you my advice. Allow yourselves only to do what you think is right. I have no other answers.' Some would have felt cheated, but Scott knew exactly what Redan had said. In short it was the difference between life and living. In one word, it was dignity.

K'vath rose from his seat and bowed, Scott realised that it was time to leave and did the same. As they walked along the streets of Aya Cygani, not a word was exchanged between the two. The pale morning light had been changed by the raw heat of the afternoon so that it took a reddish quality. They stepped into the aircraft, ready to fly them up only to hear an unexpected transmission from Suzanne 'The Galatea is lost, Lucifer on its way, get up here ASAP.'

Scott closed his eyes in disbelief and when he opened them K'vath was staring back at him with blank horror, the translated version having just filtered through his earpiece. They walked forward into the cockpit and took off.

xxxxxxxxxx

Suzanne was feeling sickened, she had just heard the desperate last transmissions of The Galatea and had been ordered to call her boyfriend back to an impossible fight. The Alliance was already issuing confused communicae through her earpiece, several officers trying to organise themselves for a hopeless battle. The jump from Deneb would take around about ten minutes for a capital ship, but the advance Shivan patrols would be here shortly.

Beta had only three of its pilots but it had been joined by Theta and Omicron, who were fully staffed. They piloted Ulysses fighters in triangle formations moving at ninety miles per second the Shivans, who were due to arrive in less than a minute. Suzanne heard her rate of breathing increase as she readied herself. She thought about Rob and wondered how long it would take him to get here. The two man craft he was piloting was not suitable for battle but he'd said he had an 'ace up his sleeve'.

She had not even had time to grieve for the friends she had lost on The Galatea. There were seconds left, a few more heartbeats. Then it happened, the blue portal opened and from its white swirling centre black and red ships began to emerge. Arjuna wing, Krishna wing, all the survivors from Deneb immediately started banking rapidly towards Beta. The portal remained open, awaiting the arrival of The Lucifer and so, against the unearthly white of subspace the battle commenced.

Suzanne heard shouted orders down her communicator 'Let's go Beta, engagement manoeuvre charlie tango 14.' The wing spread wide, the three fighters falling into an isosceles triangle. Beta 4 at the back was to cover the front two, who were to engage and retreat, drawing the fighters into his covering fire. It worked at first as Arjuna took the bait, Beta 4 fired its Avengers with full intensity on Arjuna 2, which swayed and buckled under the pummelling.

In the ship, Beta 4, or Donald Ratherson as he was named, whooped with delight as he scored hit after hit. His determination to avenge the Galatea made him completely oblivious to Arjuna 3, which stalked up silently before engaging. A few blows made Ratherson's craft shake and he pushed the steering column to its limits as he attempted to shake the enemy behind him.

By this point, Suzanne had spotted that Donald was in trouble and started screaming instructions down the commlink at him. He banked wildly left and right whilst Suzanne struggled to establish a lock. Shivan fighters had a canny battle strategy which involved constantly varying their speed to make themselves difficult to target, Suzanne was struggling with the Basilisk in front of her. Eventually she established a missile lock with her interceptors and let them rip. For Donald however, this was a few seconds too late as the carcass of his ship span out of control and exploded.

'Damn it!' Suzanne exclaimed, reporting the loss to the nearest support ship. She banked violently in her Ulysses fighter, flying back towards the main action centred around Omicron wing. The imminent arrival of The Lucifer seemed to turn the action almost to slow motion as the battle continued. All who were there seemed to be constricted by this inevitability. Omicron fought with a tigerish intensity against the tide, their Hercules fighters taking hit after hit.

A few miles to the right, Krishna piloted their dragons skilfully. There were only two of them left from the battle at Deneb but they managed to evade Theta for long minutes at a time as they tracked them with their Prometheus cannons. Four on two would be distinctly unfair odds in a normal fight, but the Dragon-class fighter was so manoeuvrable that it took two fighters to bring it down. They whirred right and left, pitched aft and fore with an ease that seemed ridiculous. They were quicker even than the Valkeriyes that Theta piloted. Eventually, after a difficult chase, both were taken out within thirty seconds of one another. Suzanne felt a split second of admiration for the skill of the pilots, then remembered that they were Shivans and that what was about to happen to Vasuda was their responsibility.

She span her Ulysses about, taking out Arjuna 1 with a hail of Avenger fire. This was the last of the advance guard. Now, all they could do was wait. She heard a familiar voice over the commlink 'Beta wing this is GTP Discovery, we may not be able to help you much but we'll try and distract these bastards for a bit longer.' Suzanne smiled, forgetting for a moment the immensity of the situation. A small civilian transport hovered across her view, Scott had returned from Vasuda.

'Not that it makes any difference' Scott thought. He stood up from his seat as co-pilot and took a moment to survey the incoming object approaching from subspace, its three claw-like cannons were just peering into the system. For a moment, he considered simply leaving K'vath to it, he knew what he had to do but he had one final word for him

'My friend' and he placed his head against K'vath's in a traditional Vasudan farewell. He walked down a short corridor to the escape pod and fired off towards The Alliance. His friend leaving seemed to make the Vasudan more focused, he pushed a combination on the pad which turned his ships back on The Lucifer and fired the afterburners.

Suzanne gazed with wonder at the sight. The Discovery was moving faster than she could have imagined a ship of that class was capable of. It was laying a series of metal charges on a zigzag pattern towards Vasuda Prime. 'Countermeasures' whispered Suzanne excitedly under her breath. Through the main door, The Discovery was also releasing a series of small rocks. Perhaps not significant enough in themselves to destroy The Lucifer, but they would certainly give it a run for its money.

For ten minutes, the strategy worked beautifully. The Shivan guns were confounded by the countermeasures and were unable to fire on the rocks. It seemed also that The Lucifer's shielding was only designed for the impact of non-organic material, the fragments of asteroid were doing untold damage. The Discovery strafed away from danger, well clear of Vasuda Prime. The Vasudans on the other side of the newly-created asteroid field seemed gleeful at this sudden turn of events.

But within a minute, the Shivans had adapted their weapons, blasting the small fragments of rock out of the way. The Lucifer continued imperiously, firing its turrets at the underpowered Anubis-class fighters. A few kamikaze's attempted to penetrate the shielding, but they all burned up on impact. It became clear who the victor was, The Lucifer began powering up the beam cannons at its front.

'Beta, Theta, Omicron, return to base immediately. You don't want to see this. We will be jumping out in five minutes.' Suzanne heard the order but took a moment to react, the scene was becoming harder and harder to simply turn away from. The first beam gun was coming close to full power. It was the same macabre horror with which no human can stop watching a car crash or a street brawl. She turned her ship around and flew back through the ship door just before the devastation started.

'That goes for you too Scott, get back here now.' Scott was frozen at the controls, the numbness had returned. 'Scott, there's nothing you can do, get back here now' repeated the Admiral over the commlink. Eventually, just as the first beam hit the surface, Scott turned away and threw his ship through the doors of the hangar.

He could picture the composed meditation of Redan in the seconds before he was wiped out. Scott refused to leave the escape pod for three hours once he got to the hangar, he did not want anyone to see the tears streaming from his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4 Footsteps

George Douglas reckoned on another hour, another hour or so until he had to get to his escape pod. There was just one final piece of business to attend to. He had to make sure the right man received the transcripts and he knew exactly who that man was. Without hesitation, he rammed his right fist through the vacuum alarm and ran. Panicked voices echoed from the engine room, making it clear his tactic had worked.

The adrenaline flowing through him blocked his senses, he did not notice that three of the men who ran past him were armed. He stopped outside a silver door marked with simplistic initials _Esgn. R.C. Scott_. Tapping his fingers on the pad in a clockwise motion did the trick, as he heard the door slide away. As he entered, he found Scott carefully folding away his dress robes, laying a particularly large three-pronged silver medal on top. He turned around and faced Douglas. His calm and unruffled exterior reflected the pre-arranged nature of the meeting.

'You must be Commander Douglas?' Scott asked.

'Yes, that's me.' He replied, his tone reflective of the new respect he had for Scott now that he saw him in the flesh. His straight back and swift tone were no doubt a defence mechanism, a way of dealing with what was to come. There was no evidence to suggest that he was unready, which is what made Douglas hesitate.

'I… I've got something here that you must listen to. You must know the true nature of who you are working for. These men, James included, are all implicated. Just listen to this.'

He inserted a small diskette into a drive in the wall and immediately the room was filled with the sounds of loud, unfamiliar voices. Douglas watched Scott, tracing every moment of increasing horror that he himself had felt not a month before as he sat there. By the end of the recording, it became clear that Scott was too angry to express himself. He sat down, staring determinedly at the wall, as if it would somehow deny what he had just heard.

No denial arrived. Douglas simply confirmed that it was not a fake or a copy by his very vivid and accurate description of Captain James. He rose from his seat, ready to depart.

'I intend to send a copy of this to the GTA and the press tomorrow' he said. Noting the absent horror in Scott's eyes, he attempted to justify himself 'I only thought it would be right for you to know the truth.'

Scott thanked him and asked him to leave. Douglas understood immediately. The young man had thought he was saving his species, not protecting a shabby web of lies. Troubled by this thought as he ambled along the corridor, Douglas barely even noticed a knife shooting upwards towards his heart. He choked briefly at its impact, momentarily agonised by the pain before darkness descended.

An anonymous voice ordained that he should be 'chucked out with all the other crap once we enter subspace.' James immediately agreed and gave the corpse to a particularly brutish security guard. They closed around Scott's quarters, the damage to The Project was catastrophic but not unsalvageable. James would use a slightly different approach, as always he had made a contingency plan. Nobody ever accused Captain James of not being thorough.

Scott was quite still when they entered. He sat on his chair alertly, with his arms in his lap. The only clue to his mood was the twitching of the left edge of his lip as he studied James. So James decided to take the initiative and speak first 'you know what has to be done Ensign, you still have a duty to your species. You are the only man who has been trained to fly this ship. The Lucifer will destroy us all…'

'… DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT YOU BASTARD? You killed billions of people, you just let them die and you walk in here as if I owe you something. Preaching the usual bullshit you murderers speak about it being for the common good.' He shouted, pulling at the arms of the guards that bound him.

James spoke loudly, knowing exactly what to say now 'as I am sure you have already guessed Ensign. I have made a contingency plan in case you got, shall we say, cold feet and it is currently sitting in the brig.' He activated the holoscreen on the wall and a young woman appeared sitting in a pale white room with lines of distress marking her forehead.

Scott closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were trying to shield himself from the image. The brig was impenetrable and if he did not let James have his way, Suzanne would be dead within the hour. Scott realised that it would not be below him to torture her first if he felt he needed further convincing. He had never felt such utter contempt for anyone, it ran through his bones like a black wire, contracting almost every muscle in his body.

They hauled him forwards, ready to drag him to the hangar. James looked him in the eye 'We did know about Altair IV. We could have stopped the destruction of Vasuda if we wanted to, but there are some Terrans, such as myself, who are not as traitorous to our own kind as you are. In what way would a strong Vasuda be in our interest? If none of this gets into that thick, disturbed head of yours perhaps I can remind you that you will be saving nine billion lives today. Nine billion Terrans. As well, of course, as your lover in the cell downstairs.'

There was no need to remind Scott of this. It had been the only thought in his head for the last two months. He had been living on borrowed time, reflected by that beautiful evening yesterday with Suzanne, the best night of his life. He moved towards the door, the security guards no longer restrained him. There was no need to speak, he walked away towards the hangar with his head held aloft.

In his peripheral vision, he could see James ordering people out of the way and sending off a security detail to retrieve Suzanne. Vasuda came back to him vividly now, Redan's words about dignity echoed in his mind so loudly that he did not feel the need to say a word to James. There was no need for anger where certainty shone out so brilliantly. This would be the last half hour of his life.

Ahead of him, the way parted as the hangar doors moved open. James led the way, striding through the brightly lit room without a doubt weighing his stride. There were ten men admiring or inspecting The Prometheus. There was also a young woman, who embraced Scott for the last time. They whispered in each other's ear of their love and parted. Suzanne placed a disk in his suit pocket and turned away quickly, not wishing anyone to see her. She herself would be flying soon, but not to definite mortality.

Scott barely listened to the briefing from James. He mentioned something about a payload, a ship called The Oppenheimer and a doctor called Jenkins. The name was familiar to Scott, but he could not quite place it. James now addressed him directly 'Ensign Scott, you must pilot this craft straight into Reactor 5 only after all the others have been destroyed. It contains an advanced payload because Reactor 5 is heavily plated. It must be delivered once the other reactors have been destroyed.'

It was a simple enough mission. Scott began pulling on his suit and stared at The Prometheus. In a matter of moments, he would become the bringer of fire.


	5. Chapter 5 The Martyr

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for reading this far and waiting so long for the end but here it is! I have made a few changes to the details of the final mission (in comparison to the game) to add a bit of pace to the narrative. I hope you approve.**

It was as if all time had stopped. Around him the movement of facial muscles and his own arms slowed to a crawl. Every sense heightened, Scott walked around the flight room without speaking to anyone. Those who did know tried to talk to the man, those who did not watched on in confusion. He pulled on his boots and allowed himself one last look at Suzanne, now a pale vision of the woman he had loved.

Briefly, he stopped to take in the new face in Beta who was to take his place. Some GTI crone no doubt, he was a foolish looking kid with a beaten brow and wild blue eyes. He wouldn't last more than a month. Scott thought better of going over but Alpha wing detained him briefly to shake his hand. Alpha 1 had been especially kind recently when he learned of the impending death of his closest rival. Scott thought that partly made up for him being such an arrogant prick.

As he boarded The Prometheus, he bent low to inspect the control consol he knew so well. The thrum as he switched on the engine made his blood pulse with relentless intensity. Attaching the plastic breathing apparatus to his face, he communicated his readiness to the nearest watchtower. Scott heard the confirmation, but struggled to register it. After a few seconds, he shook off his reverie and moved smoothly through the hangar. _That it would come to this_, he thought, the last mission of Robert Scott.

Space outside was unusually quiet. _The calm before the storm_ thought Scott as he tested his afterburners. They gave him a kind of kickback he had never experienced before, The Prometheus had been specifically designed for maximum speed. After all, a suicide pilot did not exactly need much self-defence. Alpha, Beta and Gamma joined Scott momentarily and they sat next to The Bastion whilst awaiting their orders.

They were not long in coming and they emphasised speed. Gamma was to escort The Prometheus whilst Alpha provided cover for Beta, who were piloting bombers. The Shivans however, did not seem to be following the script as four Neraphalim class bombers jumped in. Basilisk fighters also now waited between them and the jump node. Scott rolled his eyes, realising his relative helplessness, he stuck close to The Bastion and watched his escort engage the bombers.

The bombers were not going to last. They were cumbersome, easy targets for Alpha and Gamma but as the first hull breached, a strange reaction occurred and Scott heard a shout on the commlink 'get clear, they are gonna blow!' He had barely a moment to register the simultaneous explosion of the four Shivan craft, which wrapped Gamma wing in flame. Gamma 4 limped away, Scott's only escort now had barely 50% of its engine power remaining.

Distracted, Scott did not immediately register the red dots closing on his position. Four basilisk class fighters now converged on him and the shouts of Admiral Shima on his commlink confirmed as much. The Bastion took on as many as it could with its sentries but Scott found himself chased by two of the fighters. Alpha were speeding to intercept but were still well out of range. Scott pitched left, attempting to hug the side of The Bastion to give him some cover. A sentry took out one of his pursuers, leaving him chased by just one fighter.

The adrenaline pumping through his veins brought it all back. _This is what I was born for_. He had no primary weapons, so he swayed and swerved at hundreds of miles per second. The shivan on his tale was a skilled pilot, but he could not even register a hit. Scott took a nose dive and pulled up rapidly into a u-turn. It was at this moment that he realised how far he had moved. His allies were tiny dots on the horizon and he was moments from the jump node.

This moment of thought cost him dearly. The shivan took advantage of his inaction, pummelling his shields and registering a lucky hit on the dorsal side of his engine. The commlink buzzed immediately and James spoke 'Scott, get yourself clear, we cannot have too many hits on your cargo. It is extremely volatile.'

James himself stared at the monitor with a rare and unfulfilling powerlessness. The men around him were anxious, especially the Indian with the rank of commissioner on his sleeve. He attempted to make eye contact with James, but James would not engage him. He did not betray any anxiety when speaking to Scott but once he had removed his headset this façade vanished. 'Gentlemen, I will be honest with you, this may not work quite as we had planned. Scott's engine has been damaged. Let us hope that he will not be too late.'

Scott was not far from Alpha now but his engines were struggling. They no longer had the kind of kick he needed. All the support ships The Bastion carried had been destroyed by the shivans, so there was no choice but to limp on. Alpha engaged their weapons and Scott pulled up to avoid the hail as it chased the basilisk. Alpha took it out quickly, justifying their status as the top wing in the fleet. The remaining fighters formed on the wing of Alpha 1 as they powered up their afterburners.

They were two minutes from jumping out when The Bastion confirmed that The Lucifer was already in subspace. The estimates gave them a maximum of seven minutes to complete their job. They approached the node, a large green area of hyper-powered electricity. Scott activated his drives and the others followed him through the centre of the blue and white vortex he had created.

A strange and ethereal world surrounded them. They were trapped in a blue tube, a hole in the fabric of time and space. Approaching the end of that tube was a gargantuan red and black ship, surrounded by its escort. Its tiny inferiors sped towards the terrans, all of whom felt for a brief moment like intruders in a foreign land. Scott pulled downwards and used his countermeasures to distract his foes. The shivans did not long last without their shielding. Perhaps finally their weakness had been found.

Beta moved in tight form with Alpha covering each corner of its formation. Scott suddenly recalled the disk Suzanne had given him. He inserted it into his portable player and waited for a moment whilst the computer registered it. It played a long, slow, mournful note followed by a sad refrain. Scott knew instantly he had heard the piece before. It was Bach's _Air on a 'G' string_ and it communed with him that unique combination of sadness and happiness.

There was not much time left for him, maybe a minute or so. He was delighted that it was to be the last thing he ever heard. Beta released its harbinger bombs on the first reactor. The second was taken care of by Alpha. Gamma 4 waited with Scott whilst he moved towards the point of impact. His engines were not working in agreement with his other systems but whilst he had strength left he would fight that with all the skill he had learned. Gamma 4 confirmed the last of the escorts were down.

Scott noticed Suzanne leaving formation to open fire on the 4th reactor. She was taking a terrible risk by disobeying orders but Scott knew why she had done it. The third and fourth reactors blew as the violin reached the top of its pitch. The tension was mounting as Scott realised he had thirty seconds in which to do his job. He pulled round the front of The Lucifer and plunged towards the armour plating.

As his thoughts raced for the last time, his life did not flash before his eyes. Instead, he concentrated his mind on memory. Bach's bittersweet composition was reaching its conclusion as Scott hit his afterburners. The last thing he saw was the vague impression of a distant sun through the wall of subspace. A mass of explosions went off and the fire consumed him. At that moment, everything went black.

xxxxxxxx

James whooped and clapped his hands with joy. The footage of The Lucifer being destroyed had just filtered through. In its final blast, The Prometheus had taken the Sol jump node with it. Everything had gone well and truly to plan. He shook the hand of the commissioner and embraced young lieutenants whom he had never met before tonight. Nothing could have made him happier. His own planet was safe from destruction and isolated. It would not be threatened anytime soon.

What was more his own powerbase was assured, with these men, old and young alike willing to follow him to the death. His new terra would be the wonder of the ages, the greatest of the great civilisations that had been and would be. He would make Robert Scott the reluctant martyr of his cause and it would never need to be known this side of Sol just how reluctant he had been.

Captain James was now a hero, a man involved in the great struggle for Earth. He would be praised for his humanity, his bravery and his modesty. For he was determined once more to let others take the praise, to continue in his role in the background. This was the transmission he sent off to the fleet. It was self-effacing, modest and above all heroic. Earth had been saved for the future, when one day its inhabitants would return to the stars.

Now was the era of a new humanity, a new galaxy with boundless possibilities. James may only have had ten men on his side at the moment but his small band would soon grow once the next generation became aware of what it needed. He was only short on one thing, he had no name for his organisation. He could not think of one. So, he asked everyone present for ideas.

A young lieutenant addressed him 'Sir, I believe I know of a name that would suit our cause.'

James smiled 'And what would that be lieutenant?'

'The Neo-Terran Front sir' he responded abruptly.

James liked the sound of that. He asked the young man who he was.

'I am Lieutenant Bosch sir, Lieutenant Aken Bosch' came the reply.

James nodded at the young man, who inclined his head curtly. He would have to watch out for that one, he did not look trustworthy.


End file.
